Stories of Sacred India>
The Little Boy and the Rattlesnake & The Snake Who Lost Its Hiss


4 Oct 2007

Some universal tales have variations shared worldwide. Stories carry lessons for young and old. Stories do not always represent reality so much as they teach lessons, values and morals. The following is a very old story told by Cherokee, Seneca, Hindu, and many other people all around the world.

The Little Boy and The Rattlesnake

The little boy was walking down a path and he came across a rattlesnake. The rattlesnake was getting old. He asked, "Please little boy, can you take me to the top of the mountain? I hope to see the sunset one last time before I die." The little boy answered "No Mr. Rattlesnake. If I pick you up, you'll bite me and I'll die." The rattlesnake said, "No, I promise. I won't bite you. Just please take me up to the mountain." The little boy thought about it and finally picked up that rattlesnake and took it close to his chest and carried it up to the top of the mountain.

They sat there and watched the sunset together. It was so beautiful. Then after sunset the rattlesnake turned to the little boy and asked, "Can I go home now? I am tired, and I am old." The little boy picked up the rattlesnake and again took it to his chest and held it tightly and safely. He came all the way down the mountain holding the snake carefully and took it to his home to give him some food and a place to sleep. The next day the rattlesnake turned to the boy and asked, "Please little boy, will you take me back to my home now? It is time for me to leave this world, and I would like to be at my home now." The little boy felt he had been safe all this time and the snake had kept his word, so he would take it home as asked.

He carefully picked up the snake, took it close to his chest, and carried him back to the woods, to his home to die. Just before he laid the rattlesnake down, the rattlesnake turned and bit him in the chest. The little boy cried out and threw the snake upon the ground. "Mr. Snake, why did you do that? Now I will surely die!" The rattlesnake looked up at him and grinned, "You knew what I was when you picked me up."

The Snake Who Lost Its Hiss

(as retold by Leonard Perlmutter)

A wandering sadhu (holy man) entered a remote village in ancient India and found the streets strangely deserted. As he stood bewildered in the market place, a few villagers peeked out from shuttered windows, then hurried toward him asking for his help. They told him the story of their once happy community that had lost its joy when a huge and aggressive cobra made its den in their midst. The poisonous snake (naga) had attacked several people. Now all the children had to stay indoors for their safety and farmers feared to go into their fields.
"Please help us," they begged. The sadhu thought for a moment about what he could do, then answered, "Yes. I can help."

He went straight to the cobra's den and called until the powerful snake emerged. Then he spoke very sternly: "Now see here, Naga, it seems you have forgotten the first principle of yoga: ahimsa. This biting must stop! It's not kind." The sadhu proceeded to give the cobra a convincing lecture on the importance of ahimsa.

The snake saw the error of his ways and sincerely vowed to become gentle. Upon hearing this, the sadhu returned to the marketplace and confidently announced the cobra's reformation. Everyone cheered and thanked him, and he continued on his way.

Several months later, the holy man's travels brought him again to that same village. To his surprise, he found the cobra--now extremely thin and weak--lying in the middle of the road, badly wounded, bloody and barely alive.

"What has happened to you?" the sadhu asked with great concern. "I did as you told me," the snake gasped. "But the boys, knowing they had nothing to fear, threw stones at me and beat me with sticks. I remembered to practice ahimsa and did not harm them. Now, see what has become of me because of your advice."

As the sadhu began to attend compassionately to the cobra's wounds he quietly explained, "I told you not to bite, but I never told you not to hiss!"

Practicing ahimsa never makes you a doormat for someone else's insensitivity. In fact, you must apply ahimsa to yourself first before it can become an effective force in relationships with "others." By respecting yourself and others, you learn to reach deep into your inner creative resources to fashion the skillful response that is appropriate to the circumstance.